The Night After
by Preu
Summary: England's ritual gone wrong...that's all I'm going to say. Mostly PrussiaxDenmark.
1. Prologue

**Author's note:** An idea that had been sitting in my head for quite some time. I just decided to write it out when I was bored. I was trying to capture their personalities correctly so I apologize for any personal touches added to them.

Contains mature material including strong language and possibly sex in future chapters.

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><p>The first thing that Mathias noted was there were two other people on either sides of him. Their warm bodies were uncomfortably close to his and a feeling of shame came over him. He turned, attempting to squeeze his way out of the two masses.<p>

"Oi, stop moving, Mathias," came a gruff voice to his right. Gilbert's taut chest was barely covered by the blanket that covered all three of them.

"Why are we in a bed together?" Mathias commented, realizing that his arm was trapped under Arthur's stomach. With a jerk of his shoulder, he pulled it out, glaring at the Prussian.

His companion's only response was to face away from him, tugging the blanket closer to himself. "Last night, we were drinking again. I don't remember anything else, 'kay?" Gilbert grumbled.

Then, he noted that something felt weird about his body, especially his chest. He looked down and nearly fainted. When had he gotten those? Mathias' throat seized up as he opened and closed his mouth, unsure of what to say.

"Gil? Gil?" he stammered, using a hand to shake the Prussian violently.

"Oh, for fuck's sake I have a fucking hangover. You got that, ja?" Gilbert snarled, turning around to face Mathias. However, as he looked at him, a furious blush hit his cheeks. "Mein gott, are those…real breasts? Or is this part of the hangover?"

He reached forward to touch them as if to assure himself that they were real. His hands never got there as Mathias slapped it away.

"Don't touch me, you fucker," Mathias growled, scrambling off the bed. She grabbed at the blanket, covering her parts with the object, leaving the Englishman and Prussian on the bed, very unmodestly clothed in boxers.

"What the fuck," Gilbert gaped. "Artie…wake up so I don't shit myself. I can't believe it…"

Arthur stirred a bit, rather annoyed as his green eyes glared at the Prussian. "Don't do it near me, then."

"No. Really. Look. Mathias has tits, ja?"

Immediately, his head shot up, a look of shock stamped on his features. "My god…"

Meanwhile, Mathias was dressing. She had managed to button up a shirt over her additions and pulled up a pair of pants. She cast a look of venom at Gilbert and Arthur, blue eyes filled with disgust.

"Please don't fucking stare at me like that," she hissed through clenched teeth. Then, after she was done, she was still met with gaping mouths. Shaking her head, she pointed at Arthur. "Tell me what happened last night…please."

Gilbert was first to snap out of it. He jabbed his elbow sharply at Arthur to shake him up from his stupor. Meanwhile, he was hastily dressed, eager to hide his male body from Mathias' now female eyes.

Arthur mentally slapped himself as he tried to remember. He recalled memories from the murky depths of his mind. Oh god…had it really worked?

"All right. Please don't kill me for this, Mathias, but you wanted to try it out."

Mathias inclined his head towards Arthur. "None of your English bullcrap and fucking tell me now," she snarled.

Gulping down his fears, he started on the narrative.


	2. Chapter 1

The English pub Ye Olde Fighting Cocks was certainly a fine establishment. After all, it had been in business forever, literally, since the 11th century. It had sure seen a lot.

Besides being the oldest pub in Britain, it was also the meeting place of Gilbert, Mathias, and Arthur when they decided to hang out. Being old, it brought a lot of nostalgia to them, the smoke-stained wooden beams reminding them of times long past.

"The usual," Arthur called to the barkeeper as he seated himself down on a chair. Gilbert was idly texting on his phone. Meanwhile, Mathias was already pulling out his own special brew.

"The new batch is amazing this year," the Dane grinned as he poured out shots for everyone. The other two eyed the coffee colored liquid as it splashed into the glasses. Mathias had taken it upon himself to brew the most potent (and tastiest) alcoholic drink and each year, it seemed to be able to knock people off their feet faster.

Gilbert picked up his glass hesitantly and swilled the liquid around, his red eyes narrowed. Without another word, he quaffed it in one gulp. Immediately, his hands flew to his throat. "Fuck, man. That's some nasty stuff. It tastes like shit," he coughed.

Mathias glared at Gilbert, rolling his eyes. "It takes a real Dane to appreciate a drink. Something I can't say for you."

Arthur pushed his cup to Mathias. "No thank you," he commented tersely. He was unnerved from Gilbert's reaction. After all, it could only be something very strong to take a German off their beer.

"Pussies," Mathias sneered in a good natured way before downing both cups. His throat burned like fire, but he showed no sign of discomfort. "Both of you are pussies, dammit."

"Shut it. Tastes like horse piss. Probably is, too," Gilbert retorted, looking away. At that time, a waiter came over with their drinks in hand.

Grinning, Mathias looked at the Prussian. "So you know what horse piss tastes like, Gil?"

"Shut it."

Already, the night out was not getting off to a good start.

It was some time later when Mathias was thoroughly wasted from drinking his special brew. The other two were less so, but they were slightly drunk.

"Fuck, man. Artie, you know magic and shit, right?" Mathias piped up suddenly, raising his head from the table.

Arthur turned to the Dane. "Uhh, yes. What do you need?"

"Fucking find me something to fuck over my hangover tomorrow," Mathias mumbled. His hand groped for his glass, but instead of holding it, he knocked it to the ground.

Although he knew that it was a bad idea to perform his magic in his intoxicated state, he didn't want to refuse his friend. From his bag, he drew out two large, heavy tomes. "Hey, Gil. Help me find the hangover spell," he asked.

Gilbert took the book and began flipping through it. "Ja. Why not," he grunted.

The booth was soon filled with the sound of Mathias' moans and the flutter of pages. Then, Gilbert's tome suddenly fell to the ground. He managed to catch it, but there was a ripping out.

"Ach scheisse!" he exclaimed. "Fuck me. I accidentally tore out the hangover spell page."

Arthur found himself slightly unconcerned about it. "It doesn't matter. Just give it to me."

As he took the page, he didn't notice the sly look on Gilbert's face. Arthur blinked at the page, his drunk vision messing up some words. Clearing his throat, he began the ritual by marking glyphs with chalk on the table…


	3. Chapter 2

"Shit. That makes so much sense," the Prussian chuckled, scratching his head. His eyes were watching the Dane warily, as if she might finally snap and take out her anger on the two. Mathias prided himself on being manly and outdrinking everyone…now that he was a she, what would she take comfort in?

"Fuck you two," Mathias growled. "Especially you." Her icy blue eyes bore into Gilbert and he felt a chill spread through him. He swore his balls were frozen from the death glare. Or fell off.

She pulled her coat over her unfamiliar form, trying to hide her new items on her chest. What would her brothers do if they see…them? They would ask, yes. She could imagine their questions assaulting her privacy. Oh god…she didn't want anyone to know about this.

Arthur attempted to placate her. "Look, Matt, I can find a counter spell to reverse this, if you would like?" he suggested, opening his palms up in supplication. Like Gilbert, he was watching Mathias for any sign of violence.

"You go do that," came the reply, muffled by the upturned collar that Mathias was using to cover her more feminine and delicate features of her face, which were still the same, but to her paranoid mind, they had changed. It was weird wearing the usual clothing with a new body. She was beginning to miss the familiar weight between her legs and abhorring the new one on her front. "And…don't you fucking dare tell anymore about this. If you do, I'll tie your fucking balls in a knot around your neck."

The other two nodded hastily, agreeing to the proposition. They didn't want their balls tied around their necks. It sounded really painful. Gilbert was sure that it was impossible to untie once it was done, because it would hurt like a mother in performing the act.

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><p>It was a long walk home as the Dane made her way back to her house. A couple of people, who knew her, in her male body, waved and said hello. She replied occasionally, blessing the fact that her voice was as deep as ever. Not much had changed about her outside of the fact that her gender swapped. Mathias was still a tall, blonde Nordic with blue eyes that were usually smiling but now were cold and gray like the stormy seas.<p>

She opened the front door and was glad that no one was home. Lukas and Emil seemed to be out for the day. The Dane for once appreciated the lack of people in the house, even happy about the fact that the big bastard Berwald and his Finnish bedmate were gone. Though she had never admitted it, Mathias had missed Berwald, mostly for his services in the bedroom. Occasionally in chains. Yes, it was abuse, but he had never complained until the Swede had taken off with runty one.

Lukas and Emil had always been cold around him back then. They still were now, not really accepting the Dane as the older sibling. Every interaction was tense and formal, with none of the camaraderie that came out of brotherhood, even adopted.

Perhaps, the situation at home was what had prompted Mathias to seek outside friendship. Gilbert and Arthur were good friends, with real siblings, unlike him. He had only adopted Lukas and Emil to fit in with them. Now, in the silent and empty house, she felt small and insignificant in the face of the big picture. Gender swapped, no one around…

"What am I going to do about this..." she muttered to herself, blue eyes on the ground as she listlessly made her way to her bedroom. Without another coherent word, she crumpled against the bed, pressing her face into pillow as she sobbed and sobbed. It had never occurred to her before that Mathias happened to be a very lonely person, just craving for attention.

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><p><strong>Author's Note: <strong>I lost my muse for the couple of months due to writing a poop-ton of essays. That happens to be my excuse for my absence :D


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